


Trust Is Such A Curious Thing

by LaFemmePoeme



Series: Entity shenanigans [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Agoraphobia, Look I just wrote short thingies featuring the Fears, Loss of Trust, Nobody will read this but that's alright, Other, Sacrifice, Vertigo - Freeform, thalassophobia, the vast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23052712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaFemmePoeme/pseuds/LaFemmePoeme
Summary: Then, I had the strangest thought, that perhaps I could trust you.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character
Series: Entity shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656637
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Trust Is Such A Curious Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a challenge thingy by tumblr user @mostly-incorrect-tgs-quotes, that I took to calling Magnusmarch.  
> Day 2: Trust

When I first encountered you on the bridge, the chilly wind whipping against my poor choiceof coat, as I groped around blindly, searching for my debit card in vain while droplets of sweat dripped cold down my back and I cursed under my breath, you kneeled before me and handed me my debit card with a smile. Then, I had the strangest thought, that perhaps I could trust you. 

When I squint against blaring sunlight, inspecting your business card, and it tells me the location of your office is the tallest, most terrifying building in the city. 

As I clamber up the staircase of stone gripped with vertigo, I decide I must trust you. 

When you elatedly tell me you’ve bought a monstrous telescope, a sleek black monster that now resides in our new living room, as we stare through its hollow insides at the deep, vast expanse of space beyond our little dome of sanctuary, and my stomach lurches with irrational fear, I trust you. 

When midsummer arrives and you bring me on a boat, to swing back and forth upon waves belonging to the Pacific, as by the pinnacle of miracles you coax me into jumping down, down to the maws of a humongous mass of neverending water, yes, I trust you. 

When a storm of colossal proportions, of unnatural wrath sinks its claws into our helpless pathetic excuse for a vessel, grates the deck with waves of steel, as Thalassa desires to swallow my tiny bones whole, the gusts of wind play catch with her, throwing me into her arms, there’s a flash of doubt, yet still I trust you. 

When in the primordial embrace of waters wide, a meaningless little particle floating among a power so great, such a thing I was, as they finally pulled me up towards the light, I trusted you. 

When I’m lying among sheets so warm, the bottom of a bed so soft, in a dark room for weeks upon weeks, afraid of stepping underneath the vast sky, you come and sit there with me in the dark, and I trust you. 

Then one night, a storm rolls over us again. You pick me up from my nest of safety, bring me out beneath the open heavens. You’re leading me through the empty city, towards that one viewtower where we once had coffee, so long ago it seems. As I climb up after you, higher and higher and ever higher, seeing the ground so far away I know I would hurt and die if I fell, the vertigo grips me, my heart, my body, my mind. We step upon the roof of the world, to the cold eternal coil of wind, sky and universe, and I scream, I cry out into the Storm with a voice that is not my own. 

Yet still, when when you bring me close the the edge of my world, serene like the moon, I trust you. 

Finally we rise to stand on the railing, you call the Awaiting Beast, you call to your Master of Vast Terror, call it by name, I begin to shake and my balance crumbles. As you pull me with you to that awful fall, where my heart is sucked out by the current and the pit of my stomach explodes in terror, to the vastness I lose the meaning of my existence. 

There, I finally realize, I no longer trust you.

**Author's Note:**

> *Distant sounds of screaming*  
> *Michael Crew nods approvingly*  
> So, people get yeeted off of buildings. Y'know, just Vast things.


End file.
